Has Vatican II been Hermeneutered ? Recovering and Developing its Theological Achievements following Rahner and Lonergan

The Interpretation of the Council

Karl Rahner’s hermeneutics of the Second Vatican Council provide a neglected resource for recovering the fecundity of the council and avoiding the Scylla and Charybdis of two hermeneutic extremes: resistance and de-emphasis on the one hand and excessive historical analysis and hermeneutical speculation on the other.

Regardless of which side of the debate one takes, and whether or not one invokes the language of continuity/discontinuity, the fact that Vatican II was a major event in the history of the Church with ongoing significance is indisputable. This is made clear by a number of factors, of which I will mention four: (1) Pope John XXIII’s opening address to the council where he explicitly called for a ‘leap forward’ in the Church’s self-understanding; ⁷ (2) the fact that as a council it was unprecedented in that, in the words of Bernard Lonergan, it ‘hurled no anathemas’; ⁸ (3) the very commonsense assessment of John O’Malley, when he reminds us that these councils are never convened casually–rather, the convoking of an ecumenical council on this scale constitutes by its very nature a significant event; ⁹ and (4) Joseph Komonchak’s claim that Vatican II represented a ‘historic moment in the Church’s self-constitution’ and ‘an expression of the Church’s reflective self-consciousness’. ¹⁰ I will explain this latter claim in more detail below.

These four authoritative pronouncements do not deny the continuity of the council, which is implied by its very name, Vatican II. However, inspired by Rahner, I will argue below that a more adequate conciliar analogue for interpreting Vatican II lies much earlier than Vatican I: the Council of Jerusalem.

Rahner cannot be accused of resisting the council’s teachings nor of trying to build a monument to it. Prior to the plethora of historical-critical analyses, he was already calling for a fundamental theological interpretation of the council, albeit one based on a historical judgment. His assessment was at once historical and theological when he situated the significance of Vatican II in terms of the Church’s self-understanding in a third epoch where the Church comes of age as a ‘world church,’ moving beyond a previous context in which Christianity was a ‘European export.’ ¹¹

Several years later, another theological judgment was made concerning the council that was perhaps less reliant on historical analysis. In 1985 the Extraordinary Synod of Bishops released a final report on the interpretation of Vatican II. It stated: ‘The ecclesiology of communion is the central and fundamental idea of the Council’s documents.’ ¹² Moreover, this judgment, although based on the presence of the word ‘communion’ in key documents, lends itself to the following danger as articulated by Joseph Komonchak:

It is a mistake, I think, to expect to find a fully coherent, systematic, and comprehensive ecclesiology in the conciliar documents…. It was not rare soon after the Council to read suggestions that one had to choose between Body of Christ and People of God, and the last decades have seen a shift away from People of God to communion as the key to the Council ecclesiology, once again almost as if one had to choose one or the other. ¹³

No doubt communio is an achievement of the council, and this ecclesial conception is important to ecclesiologists outside of the Roman Catholic Church as well. However, in previous work I have questioned whether communio is able to speak to the full ecumenical spirit of the council in terms of inter-religious, inter-cultural, and secular dialogue, and whether there is needed an additional ecclesiological conception of what was implicitly going forward at Vatican II that would complement communio, that is, an ecclesiology of friendship. ¹⁴

If the theological judgment of communio as the basic ecclesiology of the council was premature, then perhaps the opposite may be said for the plethora of historical-hermeneutical studies. That is, while these historical studies are essential, there is a certain sense where they can become a distraction, and perhaps inadvertently become a way of avoiding the creative and even controversial theological implications of the council’s initiatives. ¹⁵ Moreover, as we will see in the discussion of the Council of Jerusalem below, what happens in the aftermath of that first council cannot have been anticipated by the early Church. In a similar way, our scrutiny of the historical events and documents of the Second Vatican Council cannot prepare us for its future implications. This is because these implications continue to unfold as the cultural contexts change and raise new questions which the developments of the council must also address. ¹⁶ However, we can try to identify the theological principles in order to begin to construct a proper post-conciliar theology of the Church.

Again, Rahner’s approach to interpreting Vatican II involves both a historical and a theological judgment. It is historical in the sense that he saw Vatican II as inaugurating a new era in Church history, one analogous to the era of the missions of St Paul. It is theological in that he declares that the Church’s self-understanding is one of an emerging world-church. His brief but penetrating interpretation of the council affirms that there were doors opened at Vatican II that cannot be closed, and only time will determine when such advances will occur. This is in part why, taking Rahner as an inspiration, I deliberately entitled my own article on the hermeneutics of the council in a similar way, ‘Towards a Fundamental Theological RE-Interpretation of Vatican II.’ ¹⁷ In the words of one of my colleagues, ‘you cannot put toothpaste back into the tube.’ ¹⁸ Of course, the theological community does not yet have all of the insights and language available in order to advance these aspects of the council. This, in turn, may explain why there has been a backlash against the council or at the very least attempts in some corners to downplay its significance. In the next section I will flesh out one of Rahner’s claims about the importance of Vatican II in more detail.

The Conciliar Analogue for Interpreting Vatican II

In trying to pinpoint the continuity of Vatican II for a proper hermeneutics, one can presume such continuity to be implied by its very title, a title which assumes it to be a genetic development of Vatican I. This is certainly the case with respect to explicit issues taken up again at Vatican II. For example, Vatican II emphasized collegiality between the pope and the bishops in order to expand the notion of infallibility arising from the doctrine of Vatican I. ¹⁹ Moreover, given that ecumenical councils and their decrees are constitutive of the very life of the Church, one can presume a continuity between all of them. Admittedly, Yves Congar’s suggestion of a hierarchy of councils is one that demands further reflection, one beyond the scope of this paper. ²⁰ Still, if we are seeking to return to Rahner’s hermeneutics of the Second Vatican Council and likewise avoid the two resisting tendencies, then we turn again to his historical and theological assessment for clues as to how to proceed.

In ‘Towards a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican II,’ Rahner divides the history of Christianity into three broad epochs: (1) Jewish Christianity, (2) Hellenistic-Roman-European Christianity, and (3) the emerging world church. The third he argues is distinctive of and inaugurated by Vatican II. He is admittedly using broad strokes, ²¹ but his choice is provocative, especially in his comparing the current epoch to the transition between the first and second epochs. If we presume, as he does, that the expansion of Jewish Christianity to the Hellenistic world in the first century provides the best analogue for understanding the significance of Vatican II with its emerging world church, can we also then look to the Council of Jerusalem as an analogue for understanding the continuity as well as the discontinuity of Vatican II? ²²

Let us look at this council in more detail. Given the limitations of space, in what follows I hope to demonstrate the provocative feature of this interpretation leaving a more extensive analysis for a larger project. ²³ The issue at the Council of Jerusalem was the proper appropriation of Mosaic Law for Gentile converts to Christianity. ²⁴ The principal question concerned whether or not adult male non-Jewish converts had to undergo circumcision. ²⁵ Some were teaching: ‘Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved’ (Acts 15:1). Because of this, one can call the Council of Jerusalem a pastoral council ²⁶ in the sense ascribed to Vatican II, especially given that the Council of Jerusalem decided that circumcision was too much of a burden for adult males. However, the issue was not only pastoral; it went to the very heart of the fledgling Christian identity in a pluralistic context, a theme very relevant to Vatican II. What was also at issue, to invoke more contemporary nomenclature, was the inculturation of Mosaic Law within an expanded Hellenistic context. ²⁷

Based on this account, one can say the early Church did not throw out Mosaic Law but rather appropriated it to the changing needs of the Church. While pastorally it did not make circumcision a requirement, it did preserve some of the basic values of Mosaic Law: ‘Therefore I [James] have reached the decision that we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God [to be circumcised], but we should write to them to abstain only from things polluted by idols and from fornication and from whatever has been strangled and from blood’ (Acts 15: 19–20). ²⁸

The justification for the decision interestingly enough lies in the principle of justification by faith and not by adherence to the law per se. In other words, the early church was giving priority to the interior disposition of the believer rather than on external acts. ²⁹ Peter states: ‘[W]e believe that we will be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will’ (Acts 15:11). Paul states: ‘… [Y]et we know that a person is justified not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ. And we have come to believe in Christ Jesus, so that we might be justified by faith in Christ, and not by doing the works of the law, because no one will be justified by the works of the law’ (Gal. 2: 16). ³⁰ Moreover, this faith is linked to the mission of the Holy Spirit. As Peter states: ‘And God, who knows the human heart, testified to them by giving them the Holy Spirit, just as he did to us’ (Acts 15: 8). And Paul writes: ‘And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”’ (Gal 2: 6).

It is fruitful to identify some of the analogies between the Council of Jerusalem and Vatican II. First, the preaching that circumcision was required for salvation suggests that the Mosaic Law had been reified in a similar way to the manner the image of the Church was reified in the Tridentine era. As we will see below, Vatican II was moving beyond attitudes that perpetuated a reified conception of the Church. The ecclesiological emphasis at Vatican II sought to correct the distorted aspects of Bellarmine’s theology that emphasized external acts, by focusing on the faith provided interiorly through the gift of the Holy Spirit given as the necessary condition for full communion. ³¹ It follows from this interior grace given that the Church was able to recognize the possibility of salvation outside of its explicit domain.

Moreover, just as the narrative in Acts reports a stance of openness to Gentile converts, so the Fathers at Vatican II sought a stance of openness toward other Christians, cultures, and religions. In short, unity was an operative principle in both councils. At the Council of Jerusalem the question of the interpretation of Mosaic Law arose from one identified source of division: Jewish Christians were eating separately from the Gentile converts in order to observe the law. ³² Confusion mounted to such an extent that the council was called to address the various interpretations and clarify the practices. Despite the fact that Acts was written after these disputes were settled, the effect of this account on the reader would have been to communicate and celebrate unity in the community. ³³ In a similar way, Vatican II invoked a stance of openness, specifically with a call to unity as exemplified by the document Unitatis Redintegratio, the declaration on Christian unity. But that principle of unity and mutuality at Vatican II extended to other religions, including Judaism, and other cultures. Even if what was being sought here was not the unity of explicit faith sought by the Council of Jerusalem, presumably the unity strived for in the Vatican II documents was a spirit of fellowship in the goodness of humanity striving for transcendence.

It is also interesting that both Peter and Paul made reference to the mission of the Holy Spirit in their attempts to resolve the theological disputes at the Jerusalem council. Similarly, Pope Francis has suggested that the resolution to the proper interpretation of Vatican II lies with the Holy Spirit: ‘The council was a beautiful work of the Holy Spirit, but after 50 years, have we done everything the Holy Spirit in the council told us to do?’ ³⁴ Indeed, it may very well be that the post-Vatican II theology will involve a substantial development in the theology of the Holy Spirit. ³⁵ I conclude this section by making two further observations concerning the Council of Jerusalem which offer clues to the longer-term implementation of Vatican II.

First, the Council of Jerusalem confronted the explicit question of what to do with Gentile converts while a deeper question lay on the horizon, that of the emerging autonomy of Christianity in contradistinction to post-temple rabbinic Judaism. The Council addressed but could not have anticipated the full impact that its decisions would have—an impact far beyond its immediate context given that soon Christianity would be an exclusively Gentile religion, despite the fact that this paradigm shift was already underway. In a similar way, in assessing the hermeneutics of Vatican II, we cannot simply rely on historical studies to determine the full fruits of Vatican II, for even in just 50 years the context has changed radically and this fact may have a bearing on the council’s significance in the longer term. Therefore, we have to assess the council’s theological significance and its ability to address the exigencies of our times. As we will see below, the expansion of collegiality to the bishops as a hallmark of Vatican II, for example, must be addressed in the context of the broader sensus fidelium. Just like the constituent members at the Council of Jerusalem, the bishops at Vatican II could not have predicted the renewed importance for such an expansion of collegiality that would follow in the wake of the sex abuse scandal, some 35 years after the council’s end.

Finally, in considering the long-term interpretation and implementation of Vatican II as well as the history of ecumenical councils in general, it is interesting to assess the extent to which the followers of Christ have adhered to the Council of Jerusalem’s resolutions and James’s fourfold decree. ³⁶ And if aspects of that decree are no longer relevant to the lives of many Christians today, what does that say about the long-term hermeneutics of any of the Church’s ecumenical councils? Again, this is an area where Congar’s suggestion of a hierarchy of councils presents a helpful way forward although such a task would be a significant undertaking.

There are of course limits to the analogy presented in this section and the fact that Vatican II was so well documented might indicate a place where the analogy begins to breakdown. However, the analogy is helpful in that it provides a basis to address the paradigmatic aspects of Vatican II while also retaining its continuity in the tradition.

Vatican II and the Self-Constitution of the Church

As noted above, Joseph Komonchak refers to Vatican II as a ‘historic moment in the Church’s self-constitution’ and ‘an expression of the Church’s reflective self-consciousness.’ ³⁷ But what does a self-constituting Church mean? Bernard Lonergan’s remarks in Method in Theology on the self-constitution of the Church influence Komonchak on this point. ³⁸ In that work, Lonergan further distinguishes between the process of the self-constitution of the Church and the fully conscious process of self-constitution of the Church. ³⁹ The Church has continually throughout its history constituted itself in each era and in diverse contexts, but the uniqueness of Vatican II is its coming of age as a fully conscious process of self-constitution. But what does this mean?

Lonergan’s Method in Theology, although written expeditiously, is profound in its implications. Some may be put off by the language of self-constitution for fear that it connotes a kind of ecclesial Pelagianism. However by self-constitution Lonergan does not mean that the Church is simply of human construction, nor that the Selbstvollzug is simply of human willing. The distinctively modern developments in philosophical and historical consciousness do not eliminate the medieval notion of the Church as a society, but rather place the emphasis on the community constituting itself through a process of self-reflection as historical contexts change and new exigencies to which it must respond as they arise. Komonchak emphasizes that the two aspects of the Church are intimately related and inseparable. The Ecclesia de Trinitate, the Church that is an extension of the divine community of the Triune God, is the same community as the Ecclesia ex hominibus, the church arising from below in concrete historical circumstances. In its authenticity, the two aspects are one and the same Selbstvollzug, that is, an extension of the dual missions of the Son and the Spirit operative in history. ⁴⁰

In a previous article I addressed the origins of the Church ‘from above’ in terms of the emergence of the Church as an extension of the visible missions of the second and third persons of the Triune God. ⁴¹ In terms of the Ecclesia ex hominibus, one has a basis for understanding the emergence of the Church in history from below by distinguishing between four aspects: the experiential life of the Church as it is emerges and is lived out in the drama of human history, the intelligible ordering or structured process that relies on practical intelligence to shape its schemes of recurrence and to foster communal coherence, the judgments that give rise to doctrines that reflect the common beliefs and values of the community, and the ongoing constitutive life of the Church as it responds to the challenges of each new epoch and in various contexts.

The uniqueness of Vatican II lies in the fact that the Church for the first time opens into a fully conscious process of self-constitution. It is fully conscious because the Council is de facto self-reflective in its motivation and in its fruits. In terms of motivation, it is deliberately reflecting upon itself rather than responding to a specific crisis, exigency or problem as in many previous councils. Pope John XXIII’s motivation of aggiornamento implies this self-reflective process.

In terms of its fruits, the fact that all 16 documents pertain to the Church and by extension to ecclesiology further indicates this fully conscious process. ⁴² However, the fully conscious process is also ongoing. For Lonergan, the fully conscious process of self-constitution can only be assured if the Church in its theological reflection ‘unites itself with all other branches of human studies.’ ⁴³ This requires that the Church not confine itself to its own world but de facto must enter into dialogue with other faiths, disciplines, cultures, etc. In Lonergan’s words, ‘The Church is an outgoing process.’ ⁴⁴ However, this engagement with the other that marks a significant development in the self-reflective process presupposes a mutual engagement with the other as a methodological stance. Walter Abbott captures this in his translation of Gaudium et Spes when he titles the last chapter of Part One, ‘The Church and the world as mutually related.’ Further he states, ‘The word “mutual” indicates the Council hopes for two-way communication; the Council Fathers here take an initiative (just as the Decree on Ecumenism urges Catholics to take the initiative in proposals for dialogue with other Christians) and hope for a response.’ ⁴⁵ It is this notion of the Church as a fully conscious process of self-constitution, its recognition that this process de facto is an outgoing process, and the implications of this for ecclesiology that mark some of the principal theological achievements of Vatican II. I will elaborate on some of these in the following sections. ⁴⁶

Alterity, Mutuality, and Friendship as Signs of the Times

The use of the term ‘mutuality’ in various places in the Vatican II documents was significant because it represented a profound new gesture toward other Christian faiths, other religions, cultures and secular culture in general. By invoking the term, the Church officially recognized that it could be enriched and influenced by the other. From a theological point of view it also offered the Church an alternative to its heretofore tendency toward ‘strict self-mediation,’ an attitude that had become entrenched following centuries of defensive posturing against the Reformers, early modern scientific developments, the Enlightenment philosophers, and the emergence of nation-states. It was an ecclesial approach lasting roughly from the Council of Trent, buttressed by Robert Bellarmine’s ecclesiology, up to the eve of Vatican II.

As I have argued elsewhere ⁴⁷ for the foregoing I will only summarize my argument here and not go into extensive detail.

By ‘strict self-mediation’ I mean the tendency to presume one-way relations with the other. For example, it is to emphasize the Church as teacher rather than as teacher and as learner ⁴⁸ ; it is to remind us, as Francis Clooney does, that ‘monologue is not dialogue.’ ⁴⁹ This is not to say that there is anything inherently wrong per se with the Church as a strict self-mediator, for it is sometimes called to be a prophet of change. However, when it functions prophetically, it expresses its authentic self-mediating identity as, for example, in its social mission. ⁵⁰ The recognition of mutual relations with the other by Vatican II brought to light that the Church needs to be enriched by the other. What was not recognized at the time, however, is that there are distinct types of differences that one encounters with the other.

The limitation of a strictly self-mediating conception of church is that it does not sufficiently and explicitly account for the distinct types of differences that exist between the Church and the other. ⁵¹ That is, there are contradictory differences which may lead the Church to challenge the other to change, or vice versa. There are also complementary differences in which the Church and the other mutually enrich each other. There are genetic differences, wherein the differences between the Church and the other mark the various stages of development in the respective religious traditions. Finally, the work of René Girard has brought attention to how all these differences are heightened by the competitive or rivalrous element. For example, people may just dismiss the differences between Mormons and other Christian faiths until a Mormon is selected as a presidential candidate. Then the differences that were heretofore ignored become a subject for heightened concern.

The strictly self-mediating conception of the Church presumes mainly dialectical or contradictory differences toward the other. While in practice mutual relations permeate the Church’s relations ad extra throughout history, nevertheless in many ways this ‘one-way’ attitude can make its way into theological reflection in a subtle manner. For example, Avery Dulles’s classic Models of the Church, although it portrays a rich grasp of the multiple expressions of the Church’s self-understanding in various models, does not address that self-understanding in a two-way relationship ad extra in any of the models he outlines. And regardless of what one may make of the achievement of the ecclesiology of communion, the conception is too amorphous and varied to account for the distinct types of differences in any integral way. ⁵² Therefore, rather than asking what the basic ecclesiology of Vatican II is, as did the Extraordinary Synod of 1985, the question should become, ‘What are the basic ecclesiologies of Vatican II?’ We find through this inverse insight a need to establish an additional ecclesiological conception of Vatican II that supports the work of dialogue and comparative theologians better than does communio, for although communio is sufficient in a Christian ecumenical setting, it is limited in the multi-religious context.

Nevertheless, one of the problems with the post-Vatican II context is that the recognition of mutual relations with the other sets off a kind of identity crisis in subsequent generations. ‘How am I distinct if I am mutually related to the other?’ ‘What is my authentic self-mediating identity as a Christian and as a Catholic?’ I should note, however, that by authentic self-mediation I mean authentic as an extension and participation in the missions of the Son and the Spirit at work in the created order. In which case, the ‘self’ that one mediates is the communal and prophetic love of the Triune God. Nevertheless, the inability to articulate and address this problem of identity has propelled a need among the younger generations for clarity in their religious identity. However, too often this desire for a clearer identity involves a reversion to a default stance of strict self-mediation.

What kind of methodological presuppositions will address these concerns? The needed methodological approach will be a set of a priori presuppositions that presume, first, mutual relations with the other. This is in contrast to previous emphases on a one-way relationship with the Other. The presupposition of mutuality ensures a stance of openness and disposability in the relations ad extra.

The second presupposition is the anticipation of distinct types of differences. One expects within the multifaceted nature of the relations to encounter a blend of complementary, contradictory, genetic and perhaps even rivalrous differences. In being conscious of the various types of differences one is better prepared for guided inquiry and to enter into a deeper dialogue.

Third, the approach to dialogue will also need to flesh out some principles of discernment in order to distinguish the various types of differences that one encounters. This discernment is not just of the differences that one encounters in the other but will also include a self-scrutiny of one’s own motives and differences. On this basis I have argued previously that this ecclesial approach is Ignatian in spirit insofar as it emphasizes the twofold approach that is openness to ‘finding God in all things,’ on the one hand, and yet provides the principles of discernment in order to discern those differences adequately. I have further connected it with the interpretation of Vatican II and the emergence of an ecclesiology of friendship. ⁵³ However, what I have not always emphasized in previous works, although I presumed it, is that there is a prior foundational stance rooted in the love for the Triune God, as sanctifying grace, a gift received from the Holy Spirit, and to be critically appropriated into one’s tradition that is necessary in order to adopt these a priori presuppositions effectively.

The best stance to address contradictory or dialectical differences is by way of friendship. Friends can challenge each other to grow in ways that rivals, competitors or antagonists cannot. In this vein, there is a need for a seventh model as complementary and corrective of Dulles’s six models: the Church as Friend. This ecclesial stance would ground the Church’s relations with the other as Ecclesia ad extra.

Next, I have spoken of strict self-mediation as a distorted ecclesial attitude towards the other, impositional in tone, that presumes primarily dialectical or contradictory differences with the other. Vatican II made strides to move beyond these attitudes, e.g., when Cardinal Suenens specifically called for movement beyond clericalism, triumphalism, and juridicism. ⁵⁴ This is not to say that there is not an authentic, graced self-mediation that is integral to the Church’s identity and mission. As such, it occurs when the Church functions as an extension of the missions of the Son and the Holy Spirit, Ecclesia de Trinitate, as a mediator of sanctifying grace through the sacraments and ministry of the faithful to the members. This aspect would pertain to the expression of Church as communion—an extension of the community of the Triune God in history. However, the reality of the concrete life of the members of the Church is not one of just self-mediation but one that participates in mutual self-mediation at every level. The ecclesiology of friendship captures the aspect of the life of the Church in its graced mutual self-mediating relations with other Christians, other religions, cultures and secular cultures. By contrast, communio addresses the Church’s authentic self-mediating identity. Communion and friendship are two complementary ecclesial outlooks that speak to the permanent achievement in the Church’s self-understanding at Vatican II.

The Interior Dimension of Ecclesial Communion

Another significant achievement of Vatican II, one that has yet to be fully addressed in post-conciliar theology, concerns the issue of sanctifying grace along with the habit of charity as an indication of that grace. Sanctifying grace is the grace that makes human beings pleasing to God. It is the grace sufficient for salvation. The emphasis that the Vatican II documents place on this grace has profound implications for the Church ad intra and ad extra.

In terms of the Church’s relations ad extra, we have already seen how the emphasis on mutuality is significant, but the presupposition underlying it rests upon the Council’s paradigmatic admission that there exists the possibility of sanctifying grace or grace sufficient for salvation outside of its explicit domain, especially when it affirmed that God wills the salvation of all. Lumen Gentium (II, 16) states:

Nor is God far distant from those who in shadows and images seek the unknown God, for it is He who gives to all [human beings] life and breath and all things, (127) and as Saviour wills that all … be saved (128). Those also can attain to salvation who … sincerely seek God and moved by grace strive by their deeds to do His will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience (19*). Nor does Divine Providence deny the helps necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God and with His grace strive to live a good life.

Among other things, this admission that grace is sufficient outside of the explicit domain of the Church provided the basis for a dialogue within a multi-religious context. ⁵⁵ This was radical in light of previous eras when at various times the attitude Extra ecclesiam nulla salus (Outside the Church no salvation) was often presumed. ⁵⁶

This positive valuation of other religions was bolstered by the document Nostra Aetate, the Declaration on Non-Christian Religions. However, that document, brief in content, was more significant for its groundbreaking shift in stance than for anything else. Now the theological questions become: How are we related to those adherents of other religions who may have sanctifying grace in their members? What becomes of the goal of mission and proclamation? In terms of doctrine, the response of the joint Pontifical Commission, the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue and the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, in their document Dialogue and Proclamation (1991) makes progress towards addressing these questions. Theologically, however, the Church has yet to work out how we understand the presence of sanctifying grace in other religions. Theological attempts to work this out in terms of Christology have raised concerns about the uniqueness of Christ. More recently, however, theological discourse has moved towards emphasizing the invisible mission of the Holy Spirit as accounting for, at least from the Christian point of view, the presence of the ‘fruits of the Spirit’ in the religious other. ⁵⁷

A different emphasis on sanctifying grace and the habit of charity occurred with respect to the Church ad intra at Vatican II. Lumen Gentium emphasized full membership to include the habit of charity as signifier of sanctifying grace and ‘possessing the Spirit of Christ’:

They are fully incorporated in the society of the Church who, possessing the Spirit of Christ accept her entire system and all the means of salvation given to her, and are united with her as part of her visible bodily structure and through her with Christ, who rules her through the Supreme Pontiff and the bishops. The bonds which bind [us] to the Church in a visible way are profession of faith, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical government and communion. [One] is not saved, however, who, though part of the body of the Church, does not persevere in charity. [One] remains indeed in the bosom of the Church, but, as it were, only in a ‘bodily’ manner and not ‘in [one’s] heart.’(12*) (Lumen Gentium, II, 14; emphasis added)

Komonchak argues that this emphasis of the Second Vatican Council was deliberate in order to respond to the distortive aspects of the legacy of Robert Bellarmine’s counter-reformational ecclesiology. ‘Bellarmine thought it was an advantage of his definition of the Church that to determine its members no inner virtue was required so that it was as possible on the basis of public criteria to identify where the true church was as it was to determine where the Republic of Venice or the Kingdom of France were.’ ⁵⁸ Insofar as this conception of the Church relies on ‘no inner virtue’ it contributes to an attitude of naive ecclesial realism that presumes that the visible Church is somehow the ‘already out there now real’ as the true Church. ⁵⁹ In contrast to this emphasis on the external criteria, Komonchak cites the young Ratzinger praising the issue de vera ecclesia [the true Church] and the emphasis given in Lumen Gentium upon inner virtue for full communion, which is paradigmatic. The inner heights of the Church are recovered in contradistinction to the official heights. However, this is not to denigrate or abolish the external criteria (the profession of the faith, sacramental communion, and ecclesial authority), but rather it is to place these in proportion and in proper context to more foundational internal criteria. ⁶⁰

Komonchak emphasizes the significance that the conciliar phrase ‘possessing the Spirit of Christ’ precedes the external criteria. If the fullness of communion rests on some internal condition of the believer, the priority shifts to the internal criteria and raises the question anew: ‘Where is the Church truly, that is, authentically present?’ ⁶¹ For Komonchak, the true faithful of the Church are known only to God and live out of a foundational ecclesial stance that is reflective of being in love with the Triune God. ⁶² The sign of this love is the habit of charity. This implies that members lacking the habit of charity are not fully incorporated, although they remain in the bosom of the Church. Hope remains for their conversion.

The acknowledgement of sanctifying grace outside the explicit Church and recognition that the external criterion of Church membership is not the guarantor of salvation together signify the paradigmatic bringing to light that the Church’s self-understanding cannot be determined by some a priori deductive criteria. Hence, the trajectory of Vatican II, among other things, implicates invoking discernment into ecclesial living. This, of course, was implied in Gaudium et Spes’s call for ‘discerning the signs of the times’ (¶ 4). However, discernment becomes not just something to apply ad extra, but applies ad intra as well. In the next section I will say more about the latter in terms of the critical appropriation of one’s faith tradition.

Future Developments

The questions surrounding the interpretation of Vatican II are orientated toward the future of the Church. I will speculate on two aspects that flow from the previous discussions: the critical appropriation of the faith tradition and the expansion of collegiality.

Conclusion

In his reflections on the interpretation of Vatican II, Benedict XVI sought to counter the ‘hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture’ by a ‘hermeneutic of reform,’ of renewal in the continuity of the one subject-Church which the Lord has given to us. She is a subject which increases in time and develops, yet always remaining the same, the one subject of the journeying People of God.’ ⁸⁵ Despite the fact that Benedict invoked the nomenclature of ‘rupture,’ according to John O’Malley, he ‘stepped away from the sharp dichotomy of rupture/continuity that he had earlier insisted on.’ ⁸⁶

Still, if you ask many Catholics who experienced both the pre- and post-Vatican II church, at the very least, they experienced Vatican II as a rupture. That experience of rupture no doubt was linked to one of the principal themes laid out by John XXIII to bring the Church up to date, and as we have said, he explicitly stated that this requires a ‘leap forward.’ Pope Francis’s recent insistence that John XXIII be canonized alongside John Paul II seems to indicate a possibility of recapturing this aspect of Vatican II.

Finally, in light of Benedict XVI’s call for a hermeneutic of reform, the question emerges whether what has been ‘hermeneutered’ in the post-Vatican II context is the linking of such reform to an ongoing attempt to ‘bring the Church up to date.’ To paraphrase the Eastern theologian Paul Evdokimov, sometimes the world outpaces Christianity. ⁸⁷ If the Church is not to be outpaced, we must recover the twofold principles of aggiornamento and ressourcement, along with O’Malley’s addition of a third principle, development, ⁸⁸ in order to identify and implement what was going forward theologically at Vatican II. I argued that the Council of Jerusalem may provide an analogue to account for these three latter principles for engaging the meaning of Vatican II. Further, I identified a few of these achievements and potential theological developments. It may be that the global Church is not ready for another leap forward, but it certainly cannot afford a leap backward. Ecclesia semper reformanda.